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<title>A Cruel Moonlight Encounter by Sorelian_Krick</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150311">A Cruel Moonlight Encounter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorelian_Krick/pseuds/Sorelian_Krick'>Sorelian_Krick</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>but also a little bit poetic i guess?, whoops it's pretty gorey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:00:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>476</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150311</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorelian_Krick/pseuds/Sorelian_Krick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't often Herbert finds someone near the castle grounds who doesn't run from him out of fright. And he has been hungry for a long, long time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Cruel Moonlight Encounter</h2></a>
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<p>Herbert sucks the last drops of blood that come willingly from his victim’s jugular, before groaning in disappointment. The man has gone slack, bloodless but still warm, and in his hunger, Herbert’s fingers find themselves slipping between the openings of his shirt, pulling them apart until the fabric rips from the buttons, leaving an expanse of skin visible.</p>
<p>Herbert keeps his lips against the man’s neck, licking the wound for any blood left on his skin, tonguing the wounds while his sharp nails claw at the man’s chest. The skin gives easily enough under his supernatural strength, and he pulls his face back to look at the gaping wound he’s opened. Pushing away the skin, the muscle, tearing that thin, transparent layer that holds the organs in place, he opens him up like a present, and goes straight to the source.</p>
<p>The heart can still be squeezed of its contents, and so he tears it out, and raises it above him, the blood falling in slow drips into his mouth. The liver is just as full of blood, and he does the same with each part of it that he can find, careful not to nick the bowels or stomach with his nails.</p>
<p>He licks along every thick vein he can find in the man’s chest, opening them up with his teeth, until at last, he has taken all that this body can give him.</p>
<p>His breath comes out deep and satisfied, in a puff of white air, his own temperature finally raised by stealing the man’s warm blood. He smiles, and stands above him for a while.</p>
<p>“Well that was fun, darling,” Herbert says. “We should do this again some time.”</p>
<p>He laughs quietly, and looks around, but there is nothing but moon-kissed fields, covered in snow, his father’s castle in the distance.</p>
<p>He pulls the man up again, and takes a long look at his face, trying to commit it to memory. He might want to draw him later, so he takes note of his features before he puts him down, and, one foot on his collarbones for leverage, and both of his hands on his face, he pulls and twists until the head breaks off, and he falls backwards in the snow from the force of it.</p>
<p>“There. A bit clumsy, but it’ll do the trick,” Herbert says. “Can’t have you coming back for revenge, now.”</p>
<p>He throws the head further away from the body, into the blackness of trees, and kisses his victim’s hand before taking his leave.</p>
<p>He hums and sings a song on the way home, making up the lyrics as he goes, to an old tune, long out of style:</p>
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  <em>How fortunate that I met you tonight</em>
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  <em>How lucky I caught you in my sight</em>
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  <em>How blessed you did not run from fright</em>
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  <em>I beg of you, dream sweetly</em>
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